Interlude: Ficlet
by RueRoyale
Summary: Short ficlets from either Izumi's or Koji's POV. There will be more as I write them.


Title: Ficlets: Zetsuai since 1989/Bronze  
  
by RueRoyale  
  
Disclaimer: not mine, don't sue. property of Minami Ozaki, Shueisha, etc.  
  
Note: Written in a whole different world, where there are indeed small pockets of peace amid the tempest of Bronze. Izumi is alive and all body parts are functioning, Koji only has one arm, but is still alive and well.  
  
The First Ficlet:  
  
I do sometimes buy him gifts. The things I buy him I do mostly on impulse; a sudden burst of feeling, and i'm compelled. My soccer career is really a wonderful thing. Not only am I fulfilling my dream, my paycheck is more than enough to cover all costs for the sometimes extravagant gifts. It matters not though, anymore.   
  
Sometimes I buy him food, soft powdered chocolates, that I know he loves. I have the sweet woman at the counter place them in a decorated bag, overflowing with fragile light tissue paper and ribbon. She looks at me with the tenderest face, as if truly understanding the meaning of my present. Later we would eat these small treats together, Koji's face a field of light.  
  
Other times I buy him adornments. He loves, if you haven't noticed, to wear many things, belts, boots, rings, necklaces, bracelets, hats, gloves, whatever. I had been walking back from grocery shopping, like I had that first time, when I spotted in a store window the most wonderful pair of sunglasses I had seen. They first struck me as being "for-Koji," before I realized they were the cheesiest, gaudiest things I'd seen this side of the planet. Presently I pushed those feelings down, knowing they were perfect for him, and walked into the high-end shop. I was prepared, this time, for the prices. I came out of that shop with a brand new pair of tortoise framed, purple tinted, sunglasses with a centimeter long string of beadwork coming from each end of the frames. They were big enough to cover my entire face from my eyebrows to my mouth. Well, they would fit him. And they did. And he was delighted.  
  
Whenever I present a gift to him, it would seem first as if he would cry. I had thought that that reaction would pass after a few of these gifts, but it never did. I'm glad, sort of, that it stayed. I don't know why. After this initial rise of emotion he would come and grab me behind my head and press our mouths together. This would last several minutes, in which the gift would become lost between us, and I would finally have to separate us, with some small regret, I admit, saying that my present will get crushed. He will open it finally, open his mouth as if to say something, close it again, and then set it down. Koji might then repeat "I love you" like a mantra over and over till it overwhelmed me and I had to ask him to stop. Or he might simply take hold of my hand, and drag me to our bedroom, where there he would repeat "I love you" over and over till both of us could not speak coherently anymore.  
  
**********************************  
  
The Second Ficlet:  
  
He isn't aware of the specific way he walks, as if not really walking, more like gliding, winged. He can't know how much I want him, just there, cooking, apron tied around his thin waist. He had opened the windows to let out the smoke, and a light breeze picked its way through his hair, lifting it just a bit. My heart jumps. I step out of the kitchen. I've been practicing my self-restraint lately.  
  
Some of the smells of dinner drift over to me, despite the opened window. Mmm, he knows how to do it right.   
  
"What's for dinner?" I ask, rather loudly, over the sizzle of the pan. Stepping back into the kitchen, I hear his mumbles.   
  
"..... Stir fry..... catfish....." he stops murmuring things.  
  
I let my smile come to my face. He is absolutely beautiful like this. He is absolutely beautiful anytime, whether the sun is shining outside or the wind is blowing so harshly his frame shivers and teeters, wherein I would be the one to steady him, wrapping him within my arms. I shake myself. Izumi is handing me a bowl of rice. Hmm, that self-restraint needs a bit more practice, I suppose.  
  
You make me violate you  
  
You make me desecrate you  
  
You make me penetrate  
  
You make me complicate you  
  
Help me-I broke apart my insides  
  
Help me-I got no soul to sell  
  
Help me- The only thing that works for me  
  
Help me get away from myself  
  
Closer, NIN 


End file.
